


The Hesitant Guest

by aurilly



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Asgard, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-24 06:18:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8360665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurilly/pseuds/aurilly
Summary: Thor decides to help Steve get his friend back. He doesn't expect to make a friend of his own in the process.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kenaz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kenaz/gifts).
  * Translation into Русский available: [The Hesitant Guest / Растерянный гость](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10430853) by [sverhanutaya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sverhanutaya/pseuds/sverhanutaya)



It had been only about a year since Thor had last seen the dome of the Bifrost and the towers of Asgard’s capital city, but time on Earth felt longer than it truly was. When he was there, Thor embraced the lifestyle of the mortals. He had learned to cherish each day as though his life, too, were fleeting.

Heimdall greeted him with a nod, but did not dismount from his dais. “It was a hard battle.”

“You watched?” Thor asked.

“You and your companions fought well. Why do you not celebrate with them?”

“Something happened, and I knew that my place was here.” Thor related the vision he had seen through Wanda’s magic, as well as through the underground pool. 

Heimdall looked disturbed. “I have seen nothing of this.”

“Perhaps not so literally. There is no disturbance here? Nothing amiss in Asgard?”

“No. Though the storm gathers in other realms, Asgard has been peaceful. The people are focused on rebuilding. It will be some time until all signs of Malekith’s destruction are gone.”

“Some scars never heal,” Thor said, thinking of all those who had died in the attack. “How is my father?”

“He has been more withdrawn since your departure,” Heimdall said, “but that is to be expected.”

“She was his wisest counselor, and the sweetest presence in our realm. In any of the realms. It is only natural that he mourns.” Thor paused, and continued more softly. “As well as the other losses he suffered.”

“He speaks of neither.”

“There are many who hide their pain,” Thor said. This reminded him of an idea he had had only an hour or so before Ultron’s appearance had driven every other thought from his head. “Heimdall, I would have you seek someone. A man.”

“In which realm does he reside?”

“He is of Midgard. While locating him has proven difficult, I see no reason how or why he should be anywhere else. His name is Barnes. He is a mortal, of a sort, but more. Similar, in many ways, to my friend the captain. He has an arm made—” 

“—made of a rare and precious metal. I have watched the man of which you speak, albeit intermittently, for many years. He, even before your friend, was drawn into the storm that now engulfs the gems of your vision. He was one of the first mortals since you were small to encounter powers originating from the wider universe.”

“And what do you see when you watch him?”

“A man bent and beaten, but not broken. A good man who has been ill-treated by fate at every turn. There is strength in him that greater beings would envy. He has unwittingly caused much pain and destruction, but he strives to do good. Or, at least, to do no more evil.”

“That was my hope. That is the hope of my friend, though he dares not speak of it. Can you find him and bring him here? Barnes, I mean.”

“Your father will not like it.”

“I will take full responsibility. Father has his biases, but I believe this to be the right action.”

Heimdall didn’t smile, but his eyes flashed with approval, and that was enough to sign his promise. “I must wait until he is in a quiet neighborhood, one where the Bifrost’s light will not be noticed. It would not do to alert the mortals to his passage.”

On the long walk to the palace, Thor was unable to summon much excitement to be home, but the conversation had left him with the heady satisfaction of knowing his return might bring some good. It took the edge off the gnawing sense of restlessness and pointlessness that he felt about being back here.

* * *

“So you’ve come back,” Father said from his throne when Thor came to pay his respects. He looked tense, a little unlike himself, sitting uncomfortably in the uncomfortable chair that Thor wanted less and less with each passing day. “Did you finally tire of Midgard’s petty diversions?”

Heimdall was right. Loss had made Odin bitter. In such a mood as this, Thor decided to stay out of his way as much as possible.

The palace seemed quieter without his mother, without his brother, and with his father in such a state. All the reasons why he had fled Asgard weighed upon him by the end of the second day. He had not been happy at home since before his first trip to Earth, since before everything—including himself—had changed. Not even his friends’ good cheer had been able to keep his heart here. It was even worse now, after this much longer absence, and with these even greater changes and losses.

Thor’s vision still unsettled him, interrupted his sleep and distracted him during the days.

He wondered if perhaps he should leave again, seek out some worthy-sounding quest that might distract him, as he had been distracted on Earth.

* * *

A few days after his arrival, a servant entered Thor’s favourite dining room, where he was taking his evening meal with his friends.

“A visitor requests an audience.”

Thor had not forgotten his plan, but he was nevertheless puzzled for a moment when a stranger entered. The man hung back near the doorway and assessed the size and shape of the room, as well as its inhabitants, as one might surey a battlefield for potential threats.

“Well?” Volstagg said after an awkward silence. “State your business.”

Thor’s gaze traveled down to the man’s trousers and shoes. Jeans and sneakers. A single glove hiding his left arm. He had never laid eyes on this man, but recognition came to him. He stood and went to shake his guest’s hand.

“Sargent Barnes. I am—”

“I know who you are,” came the terse, dispassionate reply. “Am I here to be locked up?” He sounded almost relieved at the prospect.

“Why… what leads you to that conclusion?”

“I watched the news reports from back when… They said after New York, you took the guy responsible back to wherever you came from. And then when you came back, you said he was securely imprisoned. I figure, maybe that’s what we’re doing now with people like me.”

“Loki was tried and imprisoned for crimes committed against Asgard and Jotunheim, not only for what he did on Earth. Your situation is nothing like his. You are not here as a criminal.”

“This man comes from Earth?” Fandral asked. “Is this another one of your little companions?”

“This is a man I have never set eyes on in my life. But if the stories I have heard are true, you should count yourselves lucky to meet such a man. Friends, this is Sargent James Barnes and the Winter Soldier, a man and warrior both revered and feared in his home realm.”

Thor had thought this a clever and impressive introduction, but Barnes rejected it all with a wince and a rebuttal.

“My name is Bucky,” he said.

Sif looked questioningly between him and Thor, but Thor tried to salvage the situation with a welcoming smile and the kind of happy manners that Loki had always misunderstood as stupidity.

“Well, Bucky. Welcome. My hope is that you will stay here until such a time as you may want to return home.”

“If you saw where I was living, you wouldn’t call it a home.”

“Then your visit shall be an indefinite one,” Thor said, hoping he could jolly through Bucky’s doggedly downbeat sarcasm. Already, Thor could tell that Steve and this man had grown up together, for they shared the same darkly humorous cynicism that Steve had explained was ‘typical New York, now that I’m thinking about it’. He pointed at the extra chair. “Come, dine with us.”

“I just ate,” Bucky said warily, eyeing the strange dishes on the table, and Thor’s even stranger friends ranged around them.

Thor thought he could understand. He remembered his first confused hours in Midgard, and imagined that Bucky was feeling even more overwhelmed than he had, having not enjoyed the education about other realms that Thor had. Kindly, he said, “Then you must rest. We can get acquainted tomorrow. I have had a suite prepared for you. Anything you want, simply press the blue bulbs that you will find in each room.”

“The what?”

But Thor was already recalling the servant and giving him directions to the wing where rooms had been set aside for Bucky.

“Sleep well. In the morning, simply ask anyone, and you will be directed to me as you were directed today.”

“Okay. Well. See ya,” Bucky said. He waved awkwardly at the group.

Once he had gone, Thor took his seat again.

“Now I begin to see why you spend so much time away from home. Are all mortals so attractive?” Fandral asked lazily. “Between Jane and Darcy and now this one…”

“Only the ones I choose to befriend,” Thor said with a laugh.

“And are they all as ill-mannered as this one?” Sif added.

More seriously, Thor answered, “He has suffered greatly. I would appreciate you making an effort with him.”

“We’re always friendly,” Volstagg said. “And Fandral can be _too_ friendly, at times.”

* * *

Thor was just about to collapse into bed when he heard the noise at the door. It sounded like a knock, but no one in Asgard knocked, much less at the door of the prince. He went into the anteroom and flung open the door. Bucky was standing there with a knife in one hand and a fur coverlet in the other.

“Can I stay here tonight?” Bucky asked. “I’ll crash on the floor. I won’t bother you, I promise.”

“Are your rooms not to your satisfaction?”

“I don’t know. They’re probably fine. Can’t tell.” 

Bucky nodded towards the interior of Thor’s apartments. Thor stepped aside to allow him inside.

“What do you mean, ‘you can’t tell’?”

“It took me fifteen minutes to figure out how the door handle worked. Twelve minutes to figure out how to get water to wash my face. I don’t know enough to tell if something’s below standard. And there are guards marching past my door every five minutes. Can’t tell what for, and it’s keeping me up.”

“I see. You’re in a strange realm. And you would feel more comfortable here, with me? Safer?” 

“The way I figure, you’re the crown prince. You’ve got tons of security. And even if someone were to try something with you… I’ve seen you fight, on the news. I don’t know if you’d have my back, but I know you’d kick the ass of anyone who broke into your rooms, on principle. So here’s where it’s safest for me to be.”

Thor frowned. Bucky’s reasons for coming here were based in soundproof logic, but not the kind of warm feelings Thor liked to inspire in people—the kinds of warm feelings he would have liked to inspire in Steve’s lost friend.

“So, this isn’t because you trust me?”

“Trust you? I don’t know you, pal. All I know is, one minute, I was waiting for the bus to take me back to town, and the next minute, some guy with yellow eyes is telling me that Thor wanted me found and brought to space, or wherever we are. I keep waiting for someone to lock me up.”

Thor saw now how this looked. “Heimdall can be intimidatingly formal at times, and at still others, unhelpfully laconic. It was not my intention to frighten you. I did not summon you here to imprison you. I learned only recently of your connection to Steve, once night recently when I’d given him too much to drink and he began talking about you with more vim and passion and wistfulness than he had ever allowed around me. I had heard of the Winter Soldier, and of Steve’s friend Bucky, but…”

“But you didn’t realize they were the same guy.”

“No. Nor did I know he was looking for you in his every spare moment.” Thor paused. “Did you know that he was looking?”

“‘Course I knew.”

“Then why have you hid? It has caused him much pain.”

“Has it?” Bucky asked, as though he didn’t quite believe.

“Of course. The only times I’ve seen him smile—truly smile, with complete happiness—have been when he was telling me about you. And the only time I have seen him truly hopeful was the other night, when he told me about how he dreams one day of reuniting with you.”

Bucky slumped onto one of the window seats and stared at the floor. “That’s what I was afraid of. I don’t know if I can give him that anymore. I’m a fuckin’ mess. I’m better than I was just after everything in DC, but… I still don’t want him to see me like this.”

“I’m certain he—”

“And it’s not just that. If I reached out to him, everybody else who’s got eyes on him would be on me in about five minutes. And not all those people are as honest as he is. I don’t much mind being locked up. But I don’t want any of the guys locking me up brainwash me again.”

“But all of this is entirely why I asked Heimdall to bring you here!” Thor said, delighted to have been correct, even though what he was right about was a bit melancholy. “It was my thought—my hope—that you could recover here, in Asgard, away from any threats, for as long as you need in order to feel ready for the next step. And we have healers here who could help with whatever still ails you.”

As Bucky considered this, a wrinkle that had marred the center of his forehead unfurled. “You really didn’t bring me here to lock me up, did you?”

“Of course not. You are here because I value Steve’s friendship, and it seemed a happy thought. I wanted to help you if I could. To do for you what I never had a chance to do for my brother.”

“The guy who tried to take over the world?”

“The same. He died in my arms. We… we largely patched it up in the end. I don’t want Steve to get what he wants, only for it to be too late. He deserves his heart’s desire, and if I can help, then...”

Bucky’s smile looked a bit like a frown, but Thor decided to take it.

“So I can sleep here?” Bucky asked, returning to the original subject in order not to have to answer the previous remark.

Thor counted this response as a victory. “My bed is almost too large for me alone. You are free to share it.”

Bucky pressed his flesh hand down into the mattress. “Nah,” he said. “Too soft. Window seat’s better.”

Thor watched from his bed as Bucky fluffed the pillows just so to make a little nest for himself, and then covered himself with the blanket he’d brought with him.

They had conducted their conversation via the moonlight that streamed in over where Bucky now lay, so there were no lamps to turn off and signify that it was time to retire. Thor was about to call out, “Goodnight,” but Bucky whispered first.

“Hey, Thor?”

“Yes?”

“Tell me how Steve’s doing.”

Thor cast about through his memories for something to say, but the question was too broad. When the silence went on for too long, Bucky helped him.

“Tell me about how you got him drunk. Didn’t know that was possible for him anymore. I got something similar, I’m pretty sure, and I know I can’t.”

Thor smiled. “I will tell you about our party. I will also make getting you drunk a priority for this week. Perhaps a celebration to welcome you here.”

“Sure.”

Thor began to tell Bucky about the party, feeling warmed at the two fond chuckles he was able to elicit during the tale.

* * *

Two days later, Bucky had a head free of triggers, a new and better arm made of the same metal as Mjolnir, and a torso free from the ugly scarring that had marred him. Thor stood on the balcony and watched, as he had always done, as warriors practiced in the courtyard.

“It has come to my attention that you have invited another human to Asgard.” Odin had silently walked up behind him.

“It is true, Father. His name is Bucky. He is—”

“It has also come to my attention that he has refused the suite of apartments you had prepared for him in favor of yours.”

Thor wondered how his father had come to know this. While he had always been attuned to affairs of state and developments around the realms, he had never evinced much interest in housekeeping matters. That had been more the concern of the spy network. Loki had also had multiple maids in his pay.

“He has been sleeping in my rooms, yes,” he replied.

“Have you traded one mortal lover for another? Last time, you had a valid excuse for bringing Jane Foster to Asgard, but now…”

“He is a man I believe it is worth our while to assist, nothing more. As to why he has been sleeping in my rooms, it is as…” Thor smiled, remembering his youth, as well as the past couple nights of good cheer and talk with a man he hoped he would soon call as much of a friend as Steve did. He winked down at Bucky, who had just happened to look up at him, grinning, from the ground, where Sif had successfully wrestled him. “He stays with me as a younger brother might, when in an unfamiliar house. In a manner that I have very much missed from my own youth, and with my own brother.”

Odin paused, frowned, but did not press further. He walked away with a pensive half-smile on his face.


End file.
